Sweet Like Chocolate
by fallenAngel'sfic
Summary: CG. An interesting find leads to some interesting times...
1. Chapter 1

Title: Sweet Like Chocolate  
Rating: 15/M  
Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to me*.  
Summary: An interesting find, leads to some interesting times…  
A/N: Kate made me do it! I'll get through this list of 'tiems' yet.

… … …

Gillian Foster could always tell when Cal Lightman was angry. Not only that, she could tell when he was angry over something serious, and when it was over something that didn't necessarily warrant his anger. And when it was the latter, she couldn't help but find it amusing. Which is why, when he stormed into her office this day, she had to fight to suppress a smile…

His purposeful strides brought him to her desk seemingly as soon as she had noticed him enter the room. He carried a small box which he deposited on her desk with a clunk.

"Morning, Cal," she smirked at him, reaching out to pick up the box, curious as to what had him so wound up. She raised an eyebrow as she read the label.

"Erm, I think we should probably date first," she joked. She knew it was cruel, but he was so easy to wind up when he was already in that state.

"I found that in Emily's bathroom this morning!" he told her. "Chocolate body paint!"

Gillian decided not to point out that she could in fact read - or that technically it was Chocolate Body Pens, not paint, per se - and instead smiled sympathetically. "Cal, she just turned eighteen. One of her friends probably bought it for her as a joke."

"It's not a funny joke!"

He was pacing from left to right in front of her desk, occasionally shaking his head, or clenching his fists. No matter how amusing she was finding it, Gillian knew she was going to have to take him seriously if he was ever going to calm down.

"Cal, it's still sealed," she told him, showing him the seal to support her words.

"I got to it in time then!" he remarked, not even looking at her evidence.

"Does Emily know you found it?" she asked him, worried how _that_ conversation may have gone and what state Emily was in.

He shook his head. "No. She'd already left for school."

"And you were snooping around her bathroom?"

He stopped now and stared at her. "I don't snoop!" he protested defensively.

She held up a hand in surrender. "Sorry… But, then how did you happen to find it?"

"My shower's broken. I was using Emily's and it was just lying around by the sink."

Gillian immediately saw what Cal's anger had obviously clouded, and a grin spread across her lips.

"You think this is funny!" Cal accused.

"Cal, did Emily know you would be using her bathroom?" she asked him calmly.

"Of course she did!"

"And yet she just left this lying around. Where you were bound to see it."

Cal opened his mouth to respond, but Gillian watched as realisation hit him and knocked his retort away.

"Have you done anything recently that might drive Emily to wind you up?" she queried with a gentle smile that suitably hid the true extent of her amusement.

Cal dropped into a chair opposite her and replied, "Of course not."

She could tell that was a lie, but if he didn't want to confess his sins then she wouldn't push him. But she felt confident that he had deserved the revenge that Emily had exacted.

"Well she's not having it back!" he declared. "That'll teach her to mess with me."

Gillian nodded. "Yeah, that'll do it."

Cal met her eyes with narrowed ones of his own. "You're mocking me?"

Gillian just grinned back at him.

She was sure she saw the beginnings of a smile at the corners of Cal's mouth before Anna appeared in the doorway to tell Cal that his nine o'clock meeting had arrived.

They both thanked Anna and Cal stood up. "You can keep that, love," he said to Gillian, tapping two fingers on the chocolate body paint box. "I know you love chocolate."

He winked at her and she shook her head as she watched him leave her office.

She glanced at the box and chuckled to herself about Emily's trick before getting back to work.

… … …


	2. Chapter 2

Cal Lightman could always tell when Gillian Foster was hiding something. Not only that, he could tell when she was hiding something serious and when she was hiding something acutely embarrassing. And when it was the latter, he couldn't help but push to find out what it was. Which is why, when he wandered into her office later that night, there began an exercise in finding the truth…

She had hidden something under her desk as he walked into the room, and though she did her best to hide her 'caught in the act' look, he could see it quite clearly. He glanced at the desk for clues as to what she was up to, but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"You said you were going home," she reminded him - and that didn't make her look guilty at all.

"I remembered I had some paperwork to do," he told her, stopping beside her desk and eyeing her suspiciously.

"What?" she asked him.

"What are you doing?" he enquired, noting that her left hand had never been removed from under the desk.

She shrugged. "I was just finishing my paperwork."

"Type with only one hand now, do you?"

Her look of innocence quickly morphed into a glare. "You don't normally stay at the last minute to finish paperwork. Why tonight?"

He smiled widely. "Show me your left hand, Gillian."

"Cal, just go home. Speak to Emily about the chocolate body paint."

"She text me earlier to see if I'd found it. She's at her friend's this evening. I'm all yours," he grinned.

Gillian's cheeks now had quite a pink tinge to them and Cal could practically see her thinking of a way to get out of this situation.

"Just show me your hand," he suggested.

"Cal…"

"Gillian… What can you possibly have under there that you don't want me to see?"

She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, and then whipped her left hand onto her desk. Cal laughed out loud. She dropped a tube of chocolate body paint on to the surface, and written, neatly on the back of her hand was the word 'Hi'.

"I was curious as to what it tasted like," she explained, pushing her seat back and standing up.

Cal had to admit that seeing it on her skin had him rather curious as well. Granted it was only on her hand, but his mind had quickly supplied images of it elsewhere.

He managed to break from his daydreams quickly enough to notice that Gillian was reaching for a tissue. Instinctively his hand shot out and grasped her left wrist - firmly, but not tightly.

Her head shot round to face him, eyes wide with surprise and questioning his motives. He knew exactly what the motives were, but he himself was questioning how much sanity there was in them.

"Wiping it off would be a waste," he told her.

"Cal I'm not going to stand here and lick chocolate off my hand."

"That was your original plan, I presume," he pointed out.

"Before you arrived, yes."

"Well, don't let me stop you."

He lifted her hand so it was close to her lips.

"I'm not - "

"If you don't, I will."

Though her eyes widened with surprise again, her pupils dilated. "You wouldn't -"

He leaned forward, snaking out his tongue and sweeping up some of the chocolate.

Gillian gasped and looked utterly shocked; Cal felt a shiver through his body. He had been right to assume this was insane: He wanted to do it again and he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to stop.

Under his fingertips he could feel her pulse racing. And she hadn't snatched her hand away.

"You were saying?" he quipped, his voice coming out no louder than a whisper.

"That's irrelevant now," she replied, her voice equally quiet but her tone accusatory.

He shrugged. "I was curious."

"And?"

He frowned. "And what?"

"And, how did it taste?"

Something about Gillian whispering the word 'taste' to him, as the sweet taste of chocolate from her skin lingered on his tongue, caused every inch of Cal to tremble. The temperature in the room seemed to shoot up ten degrees.

Forcing himself to think clearly about what she had said, Cal realised that none of the 'Hi' had been missing. "Have you not tried it, love?"

"Somebody interrupted me."

He moved her hand closer to her mouth again in a gesture of encouragement, but she shook her head.

"Go on," he urged her.

She shook her head again, with a whispered, "No."

Cal found it interesting that she still hadn't tried to move away. He knew where he hoped all this was going to lead. Could he assume that she hoped for the same?

He could at least try to find out.

"Okay," he muttered quietly. Then he raised his other hand and scooped what remained of the letter 'i' onto his index finger. "Here." He offered his finger to her lips.

Her eyes dipped to his finger before returning to his. Uncertainty swirled in the beautiful blue, but she seemed to be looking to him for confirmation that she should proceed.

He knew all of the reasons why he should stop this right now. But none of them seemed to matter as much as the fact that he longed to tell her how he really felt. More than that, he longed to _show_ her how he really felt.

So in answer to her unspoken question, he returned an unspoken answer: He brought her hand to his mouth and languidly licked all traces of the chocolate from her. His eyes slipped closed and he allowed licking to evolve to sucking which morphed to kissing. He marvelled at how arousing it was just to be kissing her hand and could only imagine the sensation of kissing her properly.

When the chocolate was gone, he placed a long, gentle kiss to where it used to be, and then lifted his eyes to look at her reaction.

Her eyes were closed and, from the way she was biting her lip, Cal deduced that she was close to failing at not giving in.

He released her hand and stepped closer to her, and she opened her eyes and met his.

"Do you want a taste, love?" he asked, his words husky with desire, as he grazed her lower lip with his chocolate covered finger.

Just the tip of her tongue flicked out and fleetingly made contact with his finger. Then she said, "I really shouldn't."

Cal wasn't sure how he would handle her rejection at this point, but if she really wanted them to stop then he would.

"Since when do you turn down chocolate?" he asked her, trying to keep things light; trying to pretend that it was no big deal and they could carry on as if this never happened if needs be.

"Since it's laced with so much more than that," she whispered back.

"You might like it." He knew that wasn't supportive of letting her stop this, but it just came out.

"I would like it," she replied and there and then Cal knew that he could never carry on as if this hadn't happened.

He couldn't help a small smile. "I reckon you'd love it."

She smiled back. "I reckon you're biased."

"Care to test your theory?" He stepped even closer to her and moved his finger, trailing it slowly down her neck. She shuddered at his touch.

"How am I supposed to taste that now?" Her voice was heavy and barely audible and was all the permission Cal needed.

He dipped his head and kissed her neck, sucking the chocolate off her, before pulling back and meeting her eyes. He read her anticipation as he leaned towards her and, with his eyes fixed on hers as their lips made contact, he could watch her reaction. He softly kissed her lips before running his tongue across them. Her eyelids fluttered shut as her lips parted and her tongue made contact with his. He swirled them together allowing her to fully taste the chocolate. When she moaned softly, he slipped his right hand to her hip and his left moved to do the same but was caught by hers.

She broke their kiss and looked straight at him. "Don't get chocolate on this dress," she instructed, firmly. Then she stepped backward, lifted his hand to her mouth and took his finger between her lips.

Ever so slowly, she ran her tongue and lips along his finger. Her eyes closed again and she seemed to savour the moment. Cal resisted the urge to slam her against the window behind her and ensure that no chocolate got anywhere near the dress as it would be in a heap on the floor somewhere. With great restraint, Cal managed to choose instead to watch her actions, relish each split-second and try to believe that it was actually happening.

As she reached the tip of the finger, she opened her eyes and focused on him; her eyes wide and dark as she released him.

"Well?" he asked her, clearing his throat before he could continue. "As good as you'd hoped?"

She entwined their fingers and tugged him towards her as she hummed a delightful affirmative sound. "Better."

Their bodies crashed together; their lips meeting with ferocious force; their hands touching everywhere they could. She did end up slammed against the window behind her, the blinds rattling furiously.

Air did eventually become a requirement and their kisses reduced in fervour until they could both catch their breath.

"You know," Cal said, looking deeply into Gillian's dark blue eyes, "That's not _exactly_ how the paint is intended to be used."

Gillian licked her lips. "Really?"

"Emily's at her friends," he whispered, breathlessly.

Gillian smirked. "So much for dating first."

Laughing, Cal kissed her softly. "We'll pick up some dinner on the way."

"You seem pretty confident that I'm going to agree to this."

"Well, I know you like chocolate… And I know you don't want to get any on your dress. So there's really only one solution," he grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

She raised one of her eyebrows. "Really? Only _one_ solution?"

"Well would you rather strip here at the office? I have no problem with that."

Gillian laughed and shook her head. "You really are incorrigible."

"And I'll let you write that on me, if you like," Cal offered, nuzzling into her personal space and placing soft kisses to her lips.

She kissed him back and for a moment they were lost again to this new pastime: Hands wandering; bodies clambering to get closer and closer.

When Cal found that his fingers had made their way to the zip of Gillian's dress, he forced himself to stop; flattening his hands against her back, and gradually reducing their kisses.

Resting his forehead against hers, he fought to control his breathing and his desire.

"We _really_ should go home," he rasped.

Gillian moved against him and Cal started when her fingers nudged his hand closer to the zip.

He pulled back to look at her, eyes wide.

"There's no one else here, right?" she asked him, quietly.

"Right," he replied.

"Then why stop now?"

She shifted her hands to his waist and pulled him against her; inhaling sharply when he pressed her into the window. Her lips fused to his and she kissed him thoroughly while her fingers slipped under his shirt and her thumbs hooked into the waistband of his trousers.

Still in disbelief that this was happening it took Cal a second to react. When he did, he swung them round so that he was the one leaning against the window and his hands were free to slide the zip of her dress slowly down.

Gillian hummed softly as he did so, encouraging him onwards, spiking his arousal.

With the fabric parted, he returned his hands to her neck, caressing as he kissed her. Then, tantalisingly slowly, he trailed his fingertips down her spine, skipping over the catch of her bra and continuing on. She shivered at his touch and her lips smiled against his.

When he reached her ass, he cupped it tightly, before running his hands back up her dress. He paused before he slipped it off her shoulders and took a few seconds to just kiss her; to taste her.

"Cal," she whispered during a break for air. "You're not getting chocolate on the dress. So there's only one solution."

Her repetition of his words shot a wave of lust through Cal that took control of him. He nipped at her lower lip as he dropped her dress from her shoulders. He fed it past her hips and relinquished her lips for her to remove the garment. He watched her long, slender legs - still adorned at the feet by her stiletto heels. She lifted each one, daintily stepping out of the grey material with a grace that seemed contradictory to the fact that she was allowing him to strip her naked in her office.

Cal moved out from between her and the wall and bent down to pick up the dress. Knowing she wouldn't want it to get damaged, he lay it flat on the back of her chair and then returned his eyes to her.

She had turned to lean against the wall while she waited. Her legs were stretched out in front of her; her arms, by her sides, rested on the small window ledge. Her bra and panties were matching black with a lace trim and Cal saw only the slightest hint of nervousness in her eyes.

"Amazing," he whispered and he watched a blush run up her chest.

"You're over dressed," she whispered back.

"Oh, I don't mind getting chocolate on my clothes," he quipped.

Gillian shrugged. "Fair enough… Good luck explaining that to Emily later."

That was enough to convince him to stop teasing her. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head, discarding it somewhere to the side of him. Then he made quick work of his trousers until they were also lying forgotten on the floor.

Gillian grinned at him. "That's better."

Cal raked his eyes over every visible inch of her. He started at her feet, encased in the points of her shoes; up her legs that always looked so smooth and soft and he was finally permitted to touch. A tremor shook his body as his gaze passed the delicate fabric of her panties and his fingers twitched to stroke the firm skin of her abdomen, lightly toned and rising and falling with her shaky breathing. He suppressed a moan as he reached her breasts, two perfect mounds still hidden from him. He crossed her chest and collar bones and drew his gaze up her neck, smudges of chocolate still visible from earlier. Eventually he met her eyes, finding them large, dark and impatient.

"Are you finished?" she asked with a sultry smile.

Cal's lips curved into a hungry grin and he reached behind him to the desk, finding the tube of chocolate. "I haven't even started."

Two steps forward brought his skin into contact with hers and hands that had previously mapped everything above the clothes began their exploration anew.

He nudged her legs apart and inserted himself between them, letting her feel his attraction to her. Her hands snuck inside his underwear, gripping his ass, forcing him closer as she spread her legs wider.

He lifted her up, supporting her weight between him and the window as he dragged his lips from hers, planting kisses on her neck. The taste of chocolate reminded him what he held in his hand.

He lifted his swimming head and brought it close to hers, swallowing hard so he could speak.

"We're supposed to be using the body paint," he reminded her, his words heavy.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

He released a rumble from deep in his throat; wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up. He turned and deposited her on the edge of her desk.

"Cal," she warned obviously reading the mischief in his eyes.

He smiled innocently and then swept all of the files from her desk, scattering them on the floor.

"You're helping to sort all that out," she told him.

"My pleasure, love," he agreed, stepping between her thighs again.

He kissed her soundly, loving the gentle sighs she would release whenever he stroked his fingers over the pulse point in her neck while he was kissing her.

Breaking the contact he whispered, "Lie back."

"Cal -"

"You're not allowed to see what I write until it's done," he insisted, "So you'll have to lie back."

With a playful roll of her eyes - he didn't miss the flash of excitement in them - she did as requested.

Cal ran his hand over the bare skin of her abdomen - his blank canvas. He noted her ticklish points from the flinching of her muscles, and grinned widely thinking of the future fun he could have with that information. Then he positioned the tip of the tube and began to form the words he had chosen.

Gillian squirmed a couple of times as he wrote across sensitive spots and Cal enjoyed ordering her to keep still.

Finally finished, he put the tube to one side and admired the sight before him.

"Can I look now?" she asked and he skimmed his fingers up her legs, bringing his hands to rest on her hips as he answered, "Certainly, love."

She propped herself up on her elbows, looking first at him and then down at her stomach. He watched her radiant laugh form.

"'Cal wuz 'ere'," she read aloud.

"Yes he was," Cal beamed.

She laughed again and shook her head. "But now you're going to have to eat your words," she pointed out.

"I can live with that." Before he had even finished speaking, he was upon her skin. She gasped and he felt her muscles flutter beneath his lips and tongue.

His hands squeezed her hips, toying with the lace of her panties as his mouth moved purposefully from letter to letter.

She dropped herself back to the desk, lying flat, whimpering and gasping as he continued to wipe away his message.

Each sound of arousal heightened Cal's curiosity and he slipped one hand under the edge of her panties and ran a finger over her. She squirmed again and he repeated it, and when she let out a frustrated moan, he pushed the finger inside her. Her muscles contracted around it and he began to move to a slow rhythm.

His tongue swept round her navel; his finger curled inside her and her hands balled into fists on the desk. Cal couldn't help but grin against her and he bit at her stomach.

"Shit, Cal," she murmured and his pride swelled. Gillian Foster didn't swear - often. He found it interesting that she did during sex.

Surveying his progress, he concluded that most of the chocolate was gone and he changed his intention. He kissed the skin along the edge of her underwear then ceased his ministrations to use both hands to sweep the item down her legs. It caught on the heel of her left shoe and for a moment Cal considered removing them as well. But then he took in the image of her, all but naked, in just her shoes and bra, and he decided against it. With an appreciative smile, he slid his fingers up the length of her legs.

"Cal," Gillian breathed.

Shifting his gaze to her face, Cal realised she had propped herself up again.

"Yes, love?" he smirked.

She hooked her feet behind him and pulled him toward her as she sat up to meet him. "No more games," she whispered.

"Don't you want some chocolate?" he whispered back, wrapping his arms around her.

She kissed him fiercely, running her tongue along his lips, pressing her centre against his still clothed erection. "I can have chocolate another day," she purred into his ear. "Right now, I want you."

She pushed his underwear down.

"So demanding," Cal muttered as he helped her to rid him of his last item of clothing.

"Your fault," she replied.

… … …


	3. Chapter 3

Emily Lightman could always tell when her father was genuinely angry. More than that, she could also tell when he was hiding something. So when she arrived home from Clare's house that evening to find her Dad and Gillian Foster sitting on the sofa, she had to suppress a smile…

"Ah there you are!" her Dad exclaimed, jumping up from the sofa. "About time! I want to talk to you."

Emily could tell this wasn't genuine anger. He was putting on a show, no doubt to cover up why he and Gillian were sitting closer together than usual; why she was there at eleven o'clock at night; and why he had a permanent grin on his face.

"You said it was okay for me to stay out until now. In fact, you said midnight. I'm early." She played along. It wouldn't do for her to reveal her hand; he couldn't know that she could read him like this.

"That's not what I mean and you know it!"

"We sorted that out earlier too. You deserved the 'mini-heart-attack', as you put it. You made Rick feel really uncomfortable at my party."

"It is not your place to exact revenge on your old man. I've had all day to think about it and I don't find your little joke funny."

"Well, I do… And Gillian seems to."

This was not an attempt at deflecting her father's attention. Emily's comment had been an observation: Because Gillian did seem rather amused. Her cheeks were a little flushed and she too was trying to hide a smile. Emily frowned as she looked at her.

Her dad glanced over his shoulder, as if checking if what Emily was saying was true. Gillian met his eyes with a forced look of innocence but couldn't stop her smile from resurfacing.

Her intrigued deepening, Emily looked at her dad, finding that he also could not contain his smile. And the way his and Gillian's eyes shone as they were staring at each other…

"Oh my God!" Emily exclaimed, putting all the pieces together. "I do not need those mental images… I'll just be going to my room."

She headed for the stairs but obediently stopped when her dad told her to.

"Hey!" he reprimanded her. "We're not -"

"I won't do it again," she assured him.

He nodded. "Right. Good. Good night then."

"Good night." She smiled and addressed their guest. "Good night, Gillian."

"Night, Em," Gillian smiled softly, clearly a little embarrassed.

Emily resumed her path up the stairs, throwing over her shoulder, "See you in the morning."

It was true she didn't need those mental images, but she was happy that those two had finally seen sense. She certainly had not expected _that_ to be the outcome of her little prank, but she didn't mind at all.

THE END


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